The Last to Know
by KaKiara
Summary: After friends and strangers, both ninja and civilian noticed, Tsunade was disgusted to realize that Konoha's standards had to have fallen if they were her best. Ninja weren't supposed to be the last to know.


Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, or any of the characters therein. I do not make any money from writing fanfiction.

* * *

The first person who noticed was knocked unconscious exactly four seconds later.

He was a missing-nin, hired by a _very_ wealthy person who was going to pay him a _very_ large sum of money if he could just get this blasted scroll from A to B.

It was a great job that hopefully would keep him comfortable for some time to come if this damn pair ever got off his tail.

The kunoichi had a monstrous strength; he avoided her like the plague, never coming within ten feet of her as he zipped through the trees, dodging her kunai and trying not to land on any tree she could get a fist on. He had been renowned in his village for his speed, but mostly for his agility which he used to dodge the other shinobi's ninjutsu attacks that interspersed the kunoichi's in a pattern he couldn't follow. They seemed to know it very well.

A kunai slipped though his guard and nicked his cheek. Shit.

Minutes ago the shinobi had raised his headband to uncover an eye, an eye that he had only heard about, an eye that he didn't dare look into but had heard was blood red… The distance between them had closed exponentially after that. But his employer hadn't sent him in entirely unprepared.

Nervous as hell, he grabbed a small scroll from his waist.

If this worked, he would never mess with such shady people again.

The shinobi was close now, almost close enough to finish him off. He darted up the trunk of an exceptionally large and twisted tree, the other man steps behind him but unable to get a clear shot around the curve of the tree. He had to do this quickly.

He turned on his heel and released the scroll, making a quick hand sign for it to release.

Just before the scroll activated in his peripheral vision he saw a copy of the shinobi coming up behind him, one hand engulfed in a chirping blaze of chakra. He would have ran straight into him had he not stopped.

Dread consumed him. What if he had just turned his back on the real shinobi and the one pelting towards him now with a twin hand of screaming light was the clone?

But his fears were unfounded.

The scroll activated and a massive cloud of fine sickly orange powder erupted into the air as if it had been under a great amount of pressure.

It engulfed the shinobi in front of him, harmlessly coating his clothes, hair and skin but burned into his red eye.

Goosebumps covered his frozen body as he felt the air inches from his back crackle. But the clone behind him poofed out of existence as the shinobi in front of his lost his concentration. He could only imagine the pain that powder could inflict. His employer said it was some kind of chakra eating shit. Sounds gross, but apparently great for targeting kekkei genkai, thought the man as he watched the shinobi's steps falter, sending him falling through the air from the canopy.

Indecision plagued his tense muscles. Did he have time to finish him off?

Before he could come to a decision the kunoichi swooped out of the air, grabbed her partner and landed them on another branch much farther down the tree. She cradled his head to her chest as they crouched, him blind, her comforting.

Were they –?

Glowering green eyes glared up at him, interrupting his thought.

Jeepers, they made a different kind in Konoha.

He took off, the precious scroll still strapped to his back. He was faster than her, he thought, bounding from tree to tree, no longer darting this way and that, intent on delivering the bloody scroll. With the shinobi out for the count, there was no way she could–

A flash of pink.

He saw fingers curl into a fist.

He saw an arm draw back.

And he didn't see anything but black for a very long time.

* * *

The second person who noticed was Ino Yamanaka.

A new recruited to the Intelligence branch of the Torture and Interrogation department, reading people as if they were open books was her job description. And Sakura? Ino bragged that she Sakura better than she knew herself _and_ _you'd better believe it, darling_; a statement Sakura scoffed at every time Ino brought the matter up.

She would smugly remind Ino of the chunnin exams, that she alone could keep the snoopy Yamanaka out of her head.

And Ino would smile.

And smile Ino did as she walked past Kakashi's hospital room at one o'clock in the morning.

(Not many people got the luxury of their own private suite at the hospital – but no one had never questioned it before.)

Peering though glass pane in the door, her grin widened to Cheshire proportions when she saw her best friend sitting on the edge of Kakashi's hospital bed, shoes off, legs curled comfortably under her, and medic's coat hanging over the back of the visitors chair.

The lights were off, visiting hours were long over and Ino knew for a happy fact that Sakura's shift had ended two hours ago. Glee bubbled up inside of her and she stared at them for several minutes, unabashed.

Kakashi lay in the cool, dark room with his hands tucked behind his head, body relaxed and head turned towards her friend. Despite her ear jammed against the door, she couldn't pick up their conversation; they were speaking too quietly to each other. Not put-out in the slightest, Ino eyed the pair hungrily. Her friend's hands glowed a soft green as they grazed (caressed?) the irritated skin of her ex-sensei's eyes.

They leaned towards eachother, wrapped up in each other's company.

With an all-knowing smirk, Ino sashayed down the corridor, her long ponytail jauntily swaying to-and-fro.

She didn't need to use her family's jutsus to know her friend inside and out.

* * *

The third and fourth people who noticed were Ibiki Morino and Tsunade.

They watched from across the room as medics scurried around Sakura's hospital bed, concerned for the kunoichi – Tsunade especially so, but both worried what information the Iwa-nin had managed to extract from her.

She was awakening, obviously disorientated and more than a little scared. Understandable. She had been in their hands for nearly two weeks. Her body jerked and tried to lash out but the sedatives kept her movements sluggish and her mind numb.

Kakashi leant over the head of her bed, a lone dark figure smeared in earth, a solitary post amidst a manic tide of white-clad uniforms crashing about, calling out numbers and readings. He had led the retrieval team. Not that he had given Tsunade that choice. The minute he had heard the mission had gone sour the generally lax man had broken into her office (she still hadn't found out how) and appointed himself leader in a tone that brook no argument. It had been the first mission in a very long time that they had not done together.

Ibiki noted with interest that Kakashi's Anbu mask hung from his hip, quickly discarded after Sakura had not recognized him. He was always one to hang the rules when it suited him, but even Kakashi stuck rigidly to Anbu protocol.

Usually.

They watched as Sakura's hand, long tubes with sharp needles biting her skin like snakes, shakily grasped for him.

They watched as he took her hand in a gentle grip and as her other wound its way into the fabric of the front of his shirt. She stopped thrashing and the horde of medics took the opportunity to strap her down tighter and stick her with more needles.

Piqued, they watched between the flurry of lab coats Kakashi bend and whisper something into her ear.

His voice was lost in the chaos of the room but whatever he said, it made the young woman throw him an exasperated look, but smile.

They watched as she closed her eyes and breathed, a guardian standing over her, patient and calm as if his world turned at a different pace.

* * *

The fifth, sixth, and seventh people who noticed were three civilian women in the market.

The morning sun was still climbing up into the sky and the early autumn air was cool and crisp. They were there bright and early to get their shopping done before crowds jammed the spaces between the stalls.

They browsed through crates of cabbages and sweet potatoes, onions and carrots, catching up and bartering with the vendors.

As they purchased their groceries, they noticed two ninja, obviously on their day off, walk past the vendors.

The first woman noticed how closely they walked together, shoulder to shoulder.

The second, the oldest and already suffering from joint pain, noticed how the young woman walked as though her body had not recovered from an injury and still pained her – despite being so young in age – and how, hands in pockets, the man beside her slowed his pace to match hers without apparent thought.

The third ogled at the clash of pink and silver hair. Was brown not good enough for people these days?

They continued on with their shopping, not giving anymore thought to the two ninja until the sun was a little higher in the sky and they were almost done.

They were on the other side of the market when they saw the sliver-haired man and the pink-haired woman leaving, her on his back and a bag from the dumpling shop hanging from her fingers.

They noticed how the young woman rolled her eyes and made a point of looking peeved when the man was looking at her and how she rested her head on his shoulder, eyes closed and content, a smile playing at the corner of her lips when he wasn't.

They watched until the man's steady pace took them out of their sight, presumably to go home.

The first woman smiled.

The second was reminded of her husband.

The third giggled to herself, imagining the most adorable baby with silky locks of the lightest cotton pink hair. It wasn't brown, but it was cute.

* * *

Author's Note:

Anyone want to come up with the something that Kakashi whispered to Sakura that made her smile? Leave it in a review :) Can't think of anything? Please review anyway, if you have the time.


End file.
